


Hide and Seek in Waterfalls

by KasumiAFKGod



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, History/Decay, Lovers To Enemies, M/M, Reaper76 Week, because life is shit and we all need some joy in our lives, character death depending on your interpretation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 19:23:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9399290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KasumiAFKGod/pseuds/KasumiAFKGod
Summary: Brief glances of the relationship between Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes through their years; the joy, the anger, the sorrow, the love.





	

_Let’s say sunshine for everyone  
But as far as I can remember _

* * *

 

The first time Jack holds Gabriel’s hand, he can’t help but notice the strength in his grip.

 

“Gabriel Reyes,” says the dark-skinned man, giving Jack’s hand a firm, decisive shake, the calloused fingers stopping just shy of strangling his own.

 

“Jack Morrison,” he replies in kind as they release each other. “I guess we’re partners now, huh?”

 

A smirk lifts the corner of Gabriel’s lips, displaying a flash of white teeth. “So long as you don’t dig into my hot sauce stash or dump your shit on my bed, yeah.”

 

Jack lifts an eyebrow, lips quirking into a smile of his own. “We laying down rules from the get go? No borrowing my shampoo under any circumstances.”

 

Gabriel plants his hands on his hips, releasing a bark of laughter. “Jokes on you, _chico de oro!_ The crap we use is all standard issue.”

 

“Not my stuff,” says Jack, shaking his head. “I buy my own. Can’t stand the hair care products around here.”

 

Scoffing, Jack’s new roommate reaches out and ruffles his blond locks. “Heh. Figures that the pretty boy won’t stoop to using the same stuff us commoners do.”

 

Ducking out of Gabriel’s hold and out of arm’s reach, Jack aims a half-assed punch at him that goes wide by a mile. Maybe the SEP won’t be so bad after all.

 

\---

 

His vision is flickering like a faulty holo-screen, there’s a faint ringing in his ears akin to nails on a chalkboard, and Gabriel’s grip on his hand is vice-like despite it being slippery with red.

 

“ _Mierda!_ Hang in there, you son of a bitch! Don’t tell me you’re going to roll over and die that easy.”

 

The familiar voice breaks through the ringing, pulling him back from that blank serenity. The thunderous roar of gatling guns is muted, sounding more like tiny beads clattering on granite. At his side, Gabriel curses, bowing his head closer over Jack’s to better hide behind the fallen slab of concrete and protruding rebar that minutes ago had been part of a building. His blurred eyesight is not letting him see much beyond the other man’s dark complexion, but there’s no mistaking that ferocious scowl.

 

“Answer me, _cabron_ ,” hisses Gabriel, squeezing Jack’s hand tighter. In his free hand he hefts one of his ridiculous shotguns, while Jack’s own is pressed on the sodden, scarlet rag of a shirt over his stomach. “Come on, asshole. Don’t think you can get away with those ten bucks you still owe me.”

 

“You… cheated…,” Jack says in between gasps, struggling to hold on to what little clarity he has left. “Do-doesn’t count.”

 

“No I didn’t and hell yeah it does,” says Gabriel through gritted teeth. “It’s not my fault your poker face is terrible, jackass.”

 

Jack manages a weak chuckle, ignoring the warmth trickling from his lips and down his chin. “I keep my cash... inside the ladybug printed… sock… in my underwear drawer. Take it… but I’m… counting on you… not to be an ass… and give the rest to my family.”

 

“Give it to me yourself after this mission is over, bastard,” shouts Gabriel, popping out briefly behind cover to return a few rounds of fire. “Don’t you dare think I’m going to let you half-ass it like that!”

 

He never once lets go of Jack’s hand, and Jack releases a quiet bark of laughter before his vision fades completely.

 

\---

 

Breath frozen in his burning lungs, Jack stares at the ground, refusing to meet Gabriel’s eyes.

 

“I mean,” Jack forces out, the words tasting like chalk in his mouth. “You’re not obligated to me and it’s not like I expect anything from you or anything, but I just-just thought it would be better if I got it out there. Yeah.”

 

Still nothing but silence from Gabriel, and Jack continues to study the cement floor of the practice range than look at whatever expression might be on the other man’s face. He doesn’t want to look up and see the disgust, or worse, _pity_ , before Gabriel inevitably straight out tells him that the sentiment isn’t returned.

 

Jack tightens the fists at his sides to dissuade his fidgeting, eyes stinging. This was a stupid idea. What did he even expect to happen? That Gabriel would break out the hearts and rainbows and say ‘I love you, too’? Jack chuckles, though it sounds empty and forced even in his own ears.

 

“Anyway, that’s that,” says Jack, turning on his heel and making for the exit. “Sorry for interrupting your training, I’ll just—”

 

A vice grip and jerk on his wrist sends Jack reeling back, a sound somewhere between a shout and a squeak leaving his mouth as he stumbles in a turn to stare wide-eyed at Gabriel. Noses touching. Eyes inches apart. Gabriel’s warm breath washing over his lips.

 

“Gabe?” he asks, after enduring a few long seconds of silence.

 

“Did you mean that?” breathes Gabriel, each word exhaled over his lips and Jack suppresses a shudder. “Any of that?”

 

Their proximity doesn’t let Jack look anywhere except Gabriel’s eyes but now that they’ve made eye contact, he doesn’t think he could look away if he tried. Gabriel’s eyes burn the molten brown of dark copper, his grip on Jack’s wrist scorching his skin through the sleeved hoodie.

 

Not trusting his voice, Jack nods. Numbness spreads through his body. He’s not sure if his heart is thundering a mile a minute or stopped completely but he’s fairly sure that neither situation could be healthy.

 

Gabriel’s other hand is behind his neck, the contact sending electricity down his spine. He’s leaning closer to Jack, their lips a hair’s breadth apart, chest pressing up against his. Loosening his grip to slide his hold on Jack’s wrist to his hand, he intertwines their fingers, his grasp firm but gentle enough that Jack could pull away if he wanted.

 

“Is… is this okay?”

 

In answer, Jack closes the distance between them.

 

\---

 

Jack stumbles back from the blow to his cheek, hand coming up to feel at the bruise that’s already starting to swell.

 

“The hell was that for?!”

 

“You know damn well what that was for!” Gabriel snaps, lips pulling back in a snarl. Warm hands that used to hold Jack’s in a tender grasp now curled into fists at his sides, ready to strike again at a moment’s notice. “You don’t fucking listen, do you? You just lie down and let the UN walk all over you so you can lick their boots clean like some blind old dog!”

 

“I was in that press conference to cover up your mess and you know it,” Jack snipes back, glare knitting his brows as he watches Gabriel, wary of another attack. “The media was all over that recent fuck up Blackwatch made, somebody had to do damage control or the whole world would have found out about you.”

 

Brown eyes blaze in fury, teeth grinding together like rock brunching rock. “You—! Are you even _listening_ to yourself anymore?”

 

“Overwatch can’t afford to have Blackwatch become public knowledge, Reyes. You _know_ that.”

 

For a moment, Gabriel’s glare intensifies tenfold, fists clenching tighter. Jack half-expects his former partner to take another swipe at him. But the Gabriel turns his back, stalking out of the room.

 

“You disappoint me, _Morrison_.”

 

The spat out words spoken to the door hurt more than any punch, any bullet wound Jack had ever known. He glances up, mouth open to call Gabriel back as the other man opens the door, a desperate need surging within to pull him close over the ever increasing distance between them and coax Gabriel’s hand out of the fist, tangle their fingers together and relish in the shared warmth of their skin.

 

But then Gabriel steps through the threshold without a glance back, and Jack closes his mouth, clenches his own hands, and watches him walk away.

 

\---

 

Burning. He’s burning. Everything is burning.

 

Jack chokes on another lungful of ash and cinders as he gulps for air, stumbling through flaming rubble on unsteady feet. His pulse rifle dangles from one hand, the other held in front of him and blindly groping for any obstructions. The thick black smoke makes it hard to see.

 

“Gabe!” he yells—or tries to. His name falls from his lips in something more like a rasp, voice forced through his scorched throat. Not helped by the shouting match that took place mere minutes before.

 

And how they had shouted—shouted and screamed at each other until their throats were raw. Screamed and shouted some more until weapons were drawn. Until someone shot at something they shouldn’t have that brought the whole of Overwatch down over their heads in flaming ruins.

 

Jack wheezes, doubling over as his body shudders with wave after wave of wracking coughs. His vision is still shot to all hell, his lungs are burning from the inside out and the heat from the flames is searing him alive and he doubts the remaining structure is going to hold for much longer but he can’t leave. Not yet. Not without—

 

“Jack!”

 

“Gabe?” Jack whirls around, straining his ears, desperate to hear anything other than the roar and crackle of approaching flames.

 

“Jack—”

 

The voice breaks off into a pained grunt.

 

“Where are you?” Jack calls, the hold on his steadfast calm slipping as hysteria creeps into his tone.

 

“Over here!”

 

“I don’t see you!”

 

“What do you mean you don’t—shit. Jesus fucking Christ, Jack. That looks bad.”

 

“ _Where are you?_ ”

 

“Your ten o'clock. Behind an assload of broken ceiling. I’m trapped.”

 

Stumbling in that general direction, Jack feels in front of him until he bruises his fingers against gritty metal. Something reaches over his hand and takes hold of his fingers.

 

“Gabe,” Jack whispers, crying with relief. The tears still don’t clear his vision, but Jack would recognise that touch anywhere.

 

“Damn, you look like shit, _cabron_.”

 

“Shut up,” rasps Jack, dropping the pulse rifle at his feet to feel at the obstacle in front of him. Exposed and twisted rebar, slabs of concrete still clinging to it.

 

“Can’t get around it,” hisses Gabriel, “it’s got me in some fucked up tomb. And my leg’s busted, pinned under all this trash. I can barely reach you.”

 

“All right,” says Jack through gritted teeth, seizing part of the rebar mesh with both hands. “I’m getting you out.”

 

A laugh. “You’re fucking crazy. We’re super soldiers, but that doesn’t make us fucking Superman. There’s no way you can lift this thing.”

 

“I’m not fucking leaving you, Gabe,” Jack gasps, wrenching at the rebar and throwing his weight behind the pull. It doesn’t budge. He fights back the surge of despair building in his gut, adjusting his grip on the heated steel.

 

“Well, sucks for you but you have to,” Gabriel snaps, and Jack doesn’t need the use of his eyes to know that the man is glaring at him. “There’s no way I’m getting out from under all this crap and the rest of the building is coming down any second now.”

 

“I’m. _Not_. Leaving,” hisses Jack, wrenching at the rebar, uncaring of the twisted steel tearing his skin and bloodying his palms. “Not until you’re coming with me.”

 

“Don’t be fucking stupid, Jack!” There’s the same heat returning to Gabriel’s tone now, but it's interlaced with something else that sounds almost like fear. “ _You’ve_ got two working legs. I’m going nowhere. Get the fuck out of here while you still can!”

 

“ _Fuck off, Gabe_ —”

 

He’s given a flash of a moment to realise what is happening before it does. The crunch of crumbling concrete, the groan of tons of rubble giving way.

 

“ _Jack!_ ”

 

There’s the barest swipe of calloused fingertips over his bleeding knuckles, like someone making a grab for his hand, before something collides with the top of his head in a burst of agony and sends his world careening into black.

 

\---

 

“Figures that we’d end up like this.”

 

Jack doesn’t move or acknowledge the comment, lying on his back in the filthy alleyway staring up at the storm clouded sky. The rain continues to pelt at his waterlogged clothing and distorts his vision whenever the fat droplets splatter over his visor. It washes the blood from his body like a baptism, pulling the red down onto the ground where it is near indistinguishable from the wet concrete. His pulse rifle is somewhere a few feet away, dropped when he finally lost his footing, stumbling to the ground in a panting heap with a hand over the gaping wounds in his stomach.

 

“Hey, you falling asleep on me, boy scout?”

 

He drags in another breath through cracked lips before turning his head to the side to take in the shock of bone white mask not two feet from his face. Reaper doesn’t look any better off than he does, unable to get back up again after being hit by the dart gun Angela had given him—whatever it contained. The black leather of his coat blends into the shadows, wisps of smoke rising from his body and disappearing into the damp night air.

 

“Just taking a god damned break,” rumbles Jack, turning his face back towards the pouring sky. “I’m not a young man anymore.”

 

“Neither of us are.”

 

That’s true. He listens to the thunderous drone of rain impacting against his visor, the concrete, the black leather of Reaper’s over the top outfit. He’s almost reminded of their time in the Enhancement Program, dropping to the ground side-by-side after a full day of intense drills that had sweat pouring from every inch of skin. Or in the early days of Overwatch, when things between them were bright and promising even as the world around them burned, sneaking onto rooftops on quiet nights to lie back and look at the stars and talk as if they were the only ones who existed in the whole world.

 

Ever since he and Gabriel had met, their lives had intertwined in a way so intimately that pulling them apart would be near impossible, like iron and carbon forged into steel. They always functioned best together, whether it was with or against one another. The last few years had proved that. The both of them frothing at the bit to rip each other’s throats out, demand answers to misunderstandings that they’d both been responsible for causing. And now here they are, lying in a growing pool of Jack’s blood and out of breath as they tried to have a talk that came too little way too late.

 

Had anything really changed?

 

“You still breathing, old man?” Reaper demands, yanking Jack back from his murky thoughts. “Got the strength to hold up your gun? If you want to kill me, you’re not going to get another opportunity like this one.”

 

Jack focuses on the rasping voice to isolate it from the thundering rain falling around his head—the voice that shouldn’t sound familiar but does—even through the distortion of a constantly decaying and regenerating throat. It reverberates between the dingy narrow walls, a rich bass sound that he remembers singing him to sleep in the dead of the night. Songs in a language he didn’t understand, only their melody and scattered words clinging to his fraying memory.

 

Without a word, Jack reaches up with numb fingers and fumbles clumsily with the edges of his visor. Beside him, Reaper freezes.

 

“The hell are you doing?”

 

The latches release with a muted click and he pries off the visored mask. His red-tinted world falls away, replaced by dull colours and somewhat distinct shapes. A dull thud echoes in his ears as the visor drops to the ground, as though the effort of removing it had exhausted his remaining reserves of strength. Rain now freely beats his scarred face. It stings his faded eyes, plasters thinning white hair to his forehead, runs over his lips and onto his tongue. He tastes ozone.

 

“We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?” he asks the weeping sky, a hint of a laugh creeping into his voice. Or maybe it was the start of a crying session, he couldn’t tell anymore.

 

There’s no answer from Reaper, the silence stretching out long enough that Jack almost turns to look at him again when the touch of ice cold metal on his cheek stops him.

 

Reaper runs the back of a gleaming claw over Jack’s sopping skin, the surprisingly tender contact tracing the line of his jaw down to his chin. Jack suppresses a shiver and turns to look at Reaper then, when the tips of those pointed claws are resting inches from his unprotected throat. Water streams over them both, their silhouettes highlighted by their leathers made glossy by the rain. The wraith no longer wore his mask, the visage of an owl cast aside when he hadn’t been looking. Staring back at him is a spectre of his past.

 

“You’ve gotten old,” rasps Gabriel, face literally cracking apart in a grin. Skin and flesh stretch and tear over his cheek, briefly revealing teeth and gums visible even without his visor. Before Jack can react, the wounds knit themselves closed. Gabriel’s eyes glint blood red instead of molten brown, dull black hair streaked through with grey. But it’s still Gabriel.

 

Ignoring the jab, Jack reaches past the clawed hand at his jaw to run his own along Gabriel’s brow. The man turned wraith closes his eyes, allowing Jack’s fingers to roam over the familiar contours of his face. His skin runs hot, flakes of grey dispersing like ash wherever Jack trails his fingers.

 

But it’s still Gabe.

 

“Both of us have,” says Jack, his lowered tone barely audible above the rain.

 

Gabriel’s other hand comes up to wrap over his, their fingers lacing together like they had so many times long ago as if they’d never stopped. The press of Gabriel’s palm on his, Gabriel’s fingers between his own, rouses a sweet ache in his chest he’d long forgotten.

 

For the first time in a long time, he felt like he’d finally come home.

 

It’s enough for him so Jack smiles and lets his eyes slip shut.

 

"Jack?"

 

\---

 

Sunlight filters through the glass of the window, steadily brightening the room as the sun peeps above the horizon to greet the Gibraltan watchpoint. It reveals a white and blue pulse rifle resting on the lone desk, empty canisters of biotic emitters sitting in an orderly row against the wall waiting to be refilled. Contrary to the care of the weapon, armour and articles of clothing lie strewn in a haphazard mess over the linoleum floor, though a long black leather coat is draped neatly over the backrest of the rickety chair. All is quiet as the sun climbs higher in the sky, its warming rays growing brighter and casting a beam of golden light from the window over the rumpled covers of an occupied bed.

 

Jack wakes when the patch of sunlight moves across the sheets to eventually hit his eyes. Even partially blind, he grumbles at the direct blaze of light, twisting away from it. Instantly, the firm weight resting on his waist curls around him and pulls him back.

 

“Stop fidgeting,” slurs Gabriel, voice gruffer than usual from sleep, tightening his hold on Jack and tangling their legs together to enunciate the point. Clad only in their briefs, Jack feels every point of contact like a warm brand as if he’s hugging a giant ceramic mug holding freshly made coffee. Almost too hot under the blankets and in the Gibraltan weather, but Jack refused to have it any other way.

 

Tucking his face into the base of Gabriel’s neck to shade his eyes from the sun, Jack mumbles into mottled dark and grey skin. “You’re not the one facing the window.”

 

“I told you last night to draw the curtains before getting into bed.”

 

“But you’re closer to them, why can’t you do it?” Jack drawls in a whine, pushing his palms into Gabriel’s chest

 

Gabriel murmurs something that could be an assent or retort, his words muffled as he presses his nose into Jack’s hair.

 

“You still using that shitty smelling shampoo after all these years?”

 

“You like this shitty smelling shampoo, shut up.”

 

Gabriel shifts to press a kiss to Jack’s receding hairline and Jack feels the smile against his temple. “It’s your only redeeming factor, _cielo_.”

 

Huffing in mock offense, Jack pulls Gabriel’s arm from his side and takes the hand into his, dark and pale contrasting in the morning light as they interlace their fingers. The red of Gabriel’s eyes are obvious even without his visor, looking like warm mulled wine with the way Gabriel is looking at him. Achingly tender and mesmerised, as if Jack was the most precious thing in the world.

 

“Love you,” says Jack, the words spoken under his breath like they were priceless treasures and he was afraid someone would come to steal them away. Gabriel leans forward to brush their foreheads together and Jack closes his eyes, smiling as a contented hum rumbles up his throat.

 

“Love you too,” Gabriel whispers back, their exchange kept quiet, a secret from the ever more curious sun pouring more light into their room. With their linked hands between their bare chests, the subdued sound of their breathing synchronised with one another, Jack wishes that this moment would last forever.

 

“Get up. My other arm is under your pillow.”

 

“I know.”

 

“You’ve been lying on it all night. It feels dead.”

 

“Close the curtains next time, asshole.”

 

“Farm boy.”

  
Jack smiles against Gabriel’s skin. Forever with Gabriel sounds nice.

* * *

_Someday we will foresee obstacles  
Through the blizzard, through the blizzard _

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually written for Day 1 of Reaper76 Week but as usual here I am laaate. xD Aside from the Fairy Tale AU I have ongoing, I don't have a Reaper76 fic so I thought of writing this with the plan to make it fluffy at the end because the prompt is inevitably going to be mainly angsty (and everyone DELIVERED omg I've been hurt). But depending on one's interpretation of the ending, it might be bittersweet? Which I didn't really intend at first but I liked it so I rolled with it.
> 
> Title from the song Obstacles by Syd Matters


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